


Recollection: Zenith

by EquinoxQueen



Series: Aiisa's Journals and Recollections [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bittersweet, Blood, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquinoxQueen/pseuds/EquinoxQueen
Summary: A faded dream, a vision.Recall now, the events which took place in the Churning Mists.
Series: Aiisa's Journals and Recollections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992877
Kudos: 1





	Recollection: Zenith

The wind churned around her knelt form, eyes closed in silent prayer as she waited. Three days without food. She barely felt it, now.

Footsteps, behind her. The gait was unmistakable. Lifting her eyelids, Aiisa saw the figure stepping towards her, recognizing that face all too well.

"Come to mock me again?" She spoke quietly, to not disturb her meditation.

"Please. You couldn't be more pathetic, Ai. Abandoning your heart just because some scaled freak tells you that you're… what was it again? 'A tiny, rage-born being'?"

The words stung, needles piercing her torn heart with honeyed melody. Her voice hasn't changed at all.

"Quiet. You aren't alive anymore. You're a product of the Song. This is my darkness, not yours."

A laugh from the figure, the sweet tones brush Aiisa's ears once more, though the malice was palpable. "Ai, dear. The reason you came here was to kill them. Now you're taking advice from some flying rats? Bloody hells, you rode one of their backs up here. What game are you playing?"

"The one where your soul catches up with your body." Aiisa began to stand, left hand scratching along the ground to grasp the handle of her blade, the mighty thing feeling weightless now.

A smile crept onto the figure's features, a twisted thing. "You never learn, Ai. No matter how hard you try, you can't get rid of me. But, if you insist…" She brought up her own blade, modeled exactly like Aiisa's.

A clash, quick as lightning. The rasp of steel on steel as Aiisa brought her own face up, eyes gazing sharply into the others. Sylana. Her other half. Muscles tensed as Sylana's blade pushed back, unholy strength behind it.

"My my, maybe they were right. There's no love left in those eyes." A smirk accompanied the jab. Sylana pulled back and stabbed at her, grazing her cheek, the movement too slow to stop the obvious blow. Aiisa had no retort, the feeling of hot blood streaming down her cheek causing her heart to beat, war-drums pounding in her ears. The presence of the Song. The dance continued, her own movements weary from malnutrition, and lost in the daze of her own thoughts.

"You were much better at this before you got mixed up with all those _lizards_. Disappointing, Ai. Where's the foreplay, hmm?"

Aiisa simply gritted her teeth, snarling at the words.

"Poor beast, can't even do anything with that blood she got. Or maybe it's just a lie."

A scream, and a sloppy advance, gifting herself another scar across her arm.

"Look how much good sitting on a mountain has done you. Can't even walk straight, let alone avoid the rage."

She couldn't even hold it in even more. Aiisa began to laugh, morbid chuckling against the suddenly still air. Finally, she spoke, "You sound like our 'parents'. What a joke. Get it right, at least." She knew what Sylana was now. She knew what to do. Her head emptied, envisioning a triplet of dark flames, as she had done many times before. But this time, they were even. None of them larger than each other. In harmony.

She performed a duo of strokes, each matching. One for Pain. One for Hate. And a final thrust. One for Love.

She felt the familiar slide of the blade against flesh, opening her eyes to find a shocked figure in front of her.

"How…?"

She bore down with her head, eyes shut once more as she opened her mouth, lips touching her partner's one last time, sharing her own blood. Pulling away, Aiisa spoke, "You talk too much, Sy. Go to sleep."

She clutched tightly to the figure, arms lifting her above the ground as it faded into shadow, dripping to the ground, and molding with her own.

In its place, a single white feather, rimed by ice lay in its place, Aiisa's wounds closing quickly, left with a single reminder; a scar along her right arm.

Holstering the blade, she slid the feather next to her heart, right next to the black lilies. Three gifts for three flames.


End file.
